


If You Want To Talk The Night Through

by the_punk_ghost_girl



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Abuse, Bad Guy! Ryan, M/M, Mavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1853806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_punk_ghost_girl/pseuds/the_punk_ghost_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruised and scarred, Gavin finally caves in on himself and gives in to seeking help from a companion. And he calls upon the other half of Team Nice Dynamite. Who is more than willing to be there.</p><p>Loosely based off the song, Roll To Me by Del Armitri.~</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Want To Talk The Night Through

Gavin sighed to himself as he looked at the man who stood before him in the reflective surface. This was not him; he had not an idea as to who this was. Sure, this man shared the same dusty-brown colored hair that flopped into the same direction and this man shared the same colored hazel eyes. Yet, the man in the mirror had bruises on his neck from bites from a man who did not exactly love him. The man in the mirror had bruises on his arms and wrists. The man in the mirror had scars on his back from dirty fingernails. The man in the mirror was broken and exhausted. The man in the mirror wasn’t himself.

Or it wasn’t the man Gavin wanted to be.

Yet, there was not much he could do about except pretend like he was okay. Even though he could tell his surrogate father and boss that his employee/lover of his pseudo-son was tearing him apart inside and out, and in an instant the brown-haired man would be out of his life for good. But the young British man still hoped in better days simply because he still loved the older American man. Perhaps it was stupid of him to still be fond of someone who says his bruises and scars are “tough love”, but he was not a particularly intelligent individual to begin with.

It was around three o’clock in the morning and his lover was sleeping peaceful in the bed on the other side of the door, and he should be with him. But right now, that was something he could not bring himself to do. He needed to get away, somewhere, anywhere for that mannerism just as long as he wasn’t alone.

Gavin picked up his cellular device and looked through his contacts. One of the names stuck out to him most.

_Michael_

Surely, the redheaded boy would be the most likely one to still be awake at this time. But he would be the most likely one to be angered with him if he were to wake up him. Should he try? Should he bother someone with the burden he is? Even though he could feel the heavy feeling inside his chest swallowing him until soon he would be absolutely nothing. Did he really need someone that bad? Was he that pathetic?

He was, he concluded, as he clicked on Michael’s name and it began to call his companion.

“Hello?” a sleep-filled, quiet voice came from the other line.

“Michael, I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry; this can wait till later today…”

“Gavin, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”

He wanted to spill everything out to Michael. Every single bit of it. About how their co-worker they joke about being cruel to animals is actually cruel to him too. He wanted to tell him about the bruises on his wrists and the scars on his back. And he wanted to cry about how he deserves all of it somehow. He’s just not sure why.

“Can I come over?”

“Right now? Are you okay? Did you and Ryan get into a fight?”

“…I’ll answer your questions later, but please, can I come over? Please.”

There was silence for a moment and then there was the sound of jangling keys as well as a door opening.

“Of course you can, Gavin. I’ll be there in a little bit.” and that was the end of the phone call. The brown-haired British boy sighed in contentment; he really did have a wonderful friend in the usually angry redhead.

Yet, now he just had to get out of the apartment without waking up Ryan.

 A little trick Michael had taught him when they were pulling a prank of Geoff, his surrogate father, is that if you sprayed hairspray on the hinges of a door. The door won’t squeak. Therefore he dug out his hairspray he had not used in forever since his lover told him to stop purposely messing up his hair, reason as to why his hair was now combed down. He pulled on his long-sleeved blue t-shirt and then sprayed the hinges of the door. Gavin turned off the lights and slowly opened the door.

It worked; the usually creaky door was not as silent as a cat hunting in the night. He stepped out and his sock covered feet were met with soft carpeted floor. Oh God, how his heart raced. Gavin was risking more bruising if Ryan were to awake from his slumber.

Slowly, the brunet walked towards the open door leading out of the bedroom. His feet were then met with hardwood floor that he usually slipped on, but the crashing of his clumsiness would definitely awake Ryan. Therefore he ran his hand along the wall and the closed doors of all the second bathroom and unused two bedrooms. Soon enough, the narrow walls surrounding him opened and freed Gavin.

Gavin’s hazel eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see the counter in the small kitchen. He could see the outline of the couch next to him and the flat screen television on top of the fireplace. And next to the fireplace was the outline of the door leading to his freedom.

Slowly, he walked towards the shady outline. His hand stretched out in front of him until he felt the cold metal of the doorknob. Sucking in his breath, he unlocked the door, twisted the knob, and pushed it open. The warm air of Texas summer hit him in an instant. Gavin opened the door the smallest he could so that he could be allowed to slip through the crack. As he stood on the little balcony he could see the familiar sight of Michael’s car. Quickly, and not so quietly, Gavin shut the door and raced down the metal steps until he reached the parking lot.

He was out; he was out of his hellhole. He was free, he was free, his last name finally made sense again. Quickly, he opened up the passenger car door and jumped in beside the driver. The radio is on, but Gavin can’t hear it. The only thing in his ears is pounding and his lungs desperate attempt to get more oxygen to his poor life support.

“Gavin, are you okay?” Michael’s voice is unusually soft and filled with so much concern, Gavin is sure that it’s dripping from the corners of his mouth and out into the air.

“I’m – fine, just – please – drive now.” The younger boy gasped as he inhaled and exhaled deeply to regain a normal heartbeat.

The red-haired young man opened his mouth to speak once again, but closed it as he figured now was not the best time to start conversing. Therefore he put the car in reverse, pulled out of his parking space, and began to drive back towards his own apartment complex. The car ride is a silent one, as Gavin soon quieted his breathing, but the silence even drowned out the soft-volume music playing from the radio.

Soon enough, the car came to a stop in Michael’s usual parking space at his apartment complex. Doors opened and footsteps quietly shuffled into the ground floor of the building. The elevator was navigated to go to the third floor, and the two twenty-six-year-olds strolled into apartment 304 once Michael unlocked it.

The lights were still turned on and Gavin scoffed to himself about how silly his companion could be. But he liked to think he left them on, because of rushing to get to him as if he actually cared about Gavin, when really, he didn’t deserve to be cared about. The young British boy realized how unfamiliar all the familiar things in the living room seemed suddenly. It had been so long since he had been in the apartment of the American redhead. And honestly, up until this point in time, he had not really been bothered with the idea of going out. Gavin somehow always felt safer behind the closed door of his and Ryan’s bedroom.

Not anymore as obviously.

Michael was now sat on the couch and he watched as the younger boy’s hazel gaze simply scanned around his living room. Like a kitten that was just brought home from the pet store. The brown-eyed boy switched his gaze from staring at the floor to his companion.

Wait,  
why was he wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt? It was the middle of June!

He’d have to ask him about that as well as one other question.

“Gavin,” Michael murmured quietly, bringing the brunet’s attention to him. He scooted over and patted the spot next to him, gesturing for Gavin to sit down. The taller boy did as he was physically told and sat down beside his friend.

There was a moment of silence before,

“Gavin, what’s wrong? And please don’t say nothing is. I can see it in you. You just look…so tired and so broken. I can see that you try to be happy, and you know it works for a while when we’re playing video games and stuff. You try so hard to be happy, it’s sad. It’s incredibly sad and I don’t like it. So tell me, what’s wrong?”

Both boys were taken aback by what had just come out of pink lips. Gavin and Michael both never thought such pretty words could come from a mouth so used to curses and insults of that sort. Of course, they both knew very well he was not an entirely angry person. He had his moments just like every other human being. Right now was one of those moments.

Pupils widened in surprise and pale lips dropped open a bit in surprise at what had just been said. He wondered to himself. Could he tell Michael the truth? Tell him everything that had been going on for the past six months. Could he do that? How would Michael react? Would he be just as loving and caring as he was now? Would he hate Ryan? Would he think he was weak for not being able to stand up to his lover?

Each question just hurt his head so much more than the last, and finally, the levee broke and all the water came spewing out.

“He abuses me, Michael. He rapes me, Michael. He calls it tough love. But I think I deserve it. I deserve it, I just don’t know how. I know he wouldn’t be doing this if I hadn’t done something bad. I don’t know what I did badly, but he wouldn’t hurt me if I hadn’t done it, right? People don’t just randomly beat people. And even though he hurts me, I still love him. Well, a little bit of me still loves him. The other little bit doesn’t know how to feel about him. The other little bit is scared of not loving him anymore, because he’ll hurt me. I don’t know anymore, Michael. It’s tearing me apart.” Gavin cried.

There was silence once more as Michael took in each bit of information that Gavin had just poured out to him.

And all of the emotions came crashing like waves onto a shore.

Anger,  
how could Ryan do something like this? How could Ryan even dare to think of hurting Gavin? Michael no longer needed to ask about Gavin about wearing the long-sleeved t-shirt. They were obviously covering bruises, but how bad were they? No, did it even matter how bad they were? No, it didn’t matter. What mattered is that Ryan was hurting him. Gavin was involved in abusive relationship and he needed to get out of it.

Despair,  
as each tear fell like a little droplet of rain from those beautiful hazel eyes. Ones that were usually so light and excited. Michael felt his heart break more and more. And the way Gavin kept saying that he deserved all the hurt for some reason. Even if the British boy had done something wrong, who would punish their lover through abuse? And then have the nerve to call it tough love. Gavin didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any sort of pain. As ridiculous as he could be, he never deserved any real pain.

After a moment of being lost in his thoughts, Michael pulled himself into reality. He reached up with his hands and began to gently wipe away the tears that fell out of hazel eyes. A gaze once directed at the couch they sat upon was now connected with light caramel eyes. Gavin took these soft touches as a warm welcome and he fell into Michael’s arms. His face buried into the redhead’s ‘People Like Grapes’ t-shirt; tears began to turn the light purple fabric dark. The older boy wrapped his left arm around Gavin and left his hand to rest on the small of his back, while his right hand was occupied rubbing small circles into his back. The brunet flinched at this contact because of the scars from dirty fingernails.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt?” Michael murmured as he pulled out of the embrace and connected their gazes. One filled with concern and one filled with long-hidden-away sadness. He could see he was hesitant, but soon enough there was a nod.

“Can you show me where it hurt?” he wondered. A sigh was his answer at first, but then there was another nod. He watched as Gavin removed his t-shirt and turned around.

Ten scars, starting from his shoulder blades to the middle of his back that then crossed together where they ended, were in view. And boy, did it fuel Michael’s anger even more. This was obviously a result of the rape Gavin had to go through.

Without entirely too much thinking, Michael began to press his lips against each scar. These scars came from a man who didn’t really love Gavin. He needed to know that there was someone who really did love him.

Michael loved him.

Of course this was obvious to anyone who ever really paid attention to the two of them when they were together. Although Gavin never seemed to catch on, but during Rage Quits he featured in or Let’s Plays brown eyes would shift from whatever screen was in use to the British. And a small smile would crease pink-nearly-red lips. Michael had never really been in love before. Therefore one day when he looked at Gavin as he was doing some sort of weird thing, and he thought ‘God, I love him.’ it was odd for him. Yet, Michael supposed that was just a normal thing. Love was a weird thing in all honesty, he figured. One day you just sort of wake up and look at someone and go ‘I feel a strong fondness to this human being than I did the day before.’ and it’s a weird thing. But Michael likes weird.

After kissing the tenth scar, Gavin turned back around. Before he could ask any questions about as to why his friend had just kissed his scars, Michael was focused now on his bruised wrists and arms. His wrists were bruised the worst, and most of the other bruises were located on his shoulders. The red-haired boy took the brown-haired boy’s hands in his, bent his head down and kissed each bruised wrist. Just as he had done with each scar on Gavin’s back.

This sudden soft, gentle affection sent waves of what felt like happiness through him. Sure, his co-workers and American family had hugged him from time to time. But this was different. He couldn’t remember the last time someone’s kisses on his skin were like this.

Michael lifted his head to connect their gazes together once more, and Gavin felt his heartbeat stop as he looked into those oh-so-familiar caramel-colored orbs.

One thought was able to be processed in his oxygen-lacking brain.

‘Oh, God, I love him.’

There was that weird thing again. Hitting another individual with its sudden presence as they look into a companion’s eyes and realize they’re just so much more. At least this sort of hitting was comforting, he figured.

“You don’t deserve to be hurt, even if you had done something wrong, which I know you haven’t, you don’t deserve to be hurt. You deserve so much better than Ryan. You deserve to be loved just like you love everyone. Ryan doesn’t love you, Gavin, and you might want to believe that he still does. But he doesn’t, someone who loves you wouldn’t dare to hit you and call it tough love. Because that’s just being tough, that’s not anywhere close to love. But you don’t need Ryan’s love, because there are so many people in your life that love you. Geoff and his family love you. Your family in England loves you. Dan loves you. Jack and Ray they love you. And I love you, Gavin. I love you so much.” Michael broke the silence they had been swimming in for so long.

The corners of pale lips turned into a small smile, as small as it was, it felt so foreign on his face. It had been so long since Gavin had smiled for real. But boy was this smile real. He opened his arms out and Michael fell into his invitation, his face buried in his naked chest, and Gavin wrapped his arms around the young redhead.

“It’s funny you say that, because just a minute ago I looked at you and I thought…’God, I love him.’ and it’s a pretty sudden thing if you think about it. But love is sort of a sudden thing to begin with. And I love you; I’m just not sure if I love you in the same amount as you love me. But I do know that I love you.” Gavin’s voice is a squeak, like tires rubbing against asphalt. It broke Michael’s heart just a bit more, but the words lifted his heart just a bit as well.

“And that’s just fine,” Michael murmured into his chest.

And the two of them stayed on that couch for the rest of the night. Gavin lay back, wincing a bit but honestly his scars felt much better now, and Michael was still rested on top of him. And the British boy was thankful he had his American friend to roll to when he needed someone.


End file.
